Something Else
by Waking Slow
Summary: What I imagine will become a series of sort-of related but not necessarily sequential one-shots centered around Shikamaru x Neji, they will continue for as long as I have the energy and inclination to write them. Criticism is encouraged.
1. Chapter 1

There was once a time when looking at Neji Hyuuga didn't immediately cause memories of lust-filled pupil-less eyes and silky dark hair, loose and long and spread out beneath him or curtaining from above, to burst into his mind like exploding clay. When he could make eye contact with Hinata and not have to wonder whether she was blushing because of that time Naruto maybe sort of almost accidentally nearly touched her hand or because she _knew _ and quite possibly had _seen _things. When he could simply endure Ino poking into his personal affairs, be like a rock in a needlessly and obsessively annoying storm, instead of the study in evasion tactics he is now forced to employ in nearly every encounter (because withholding the truth is one thing but direct lying would be absolutely out of the question). There was a time when a night spent out with his friends didn't contain the moments of him and Neji and intimate activities in dark, lonely corners that it seemed to necessitate now.

Not that he is complaining, Shikamaru muses as he shifts to avoid the sharp edge of a loose stone digging into his back and slouch more comfortably against the stone wall while his mouth continues to move lazily against Neji's, at least not about that last part. Who would? He dared any man to look at Neji Hyuuga, to take in all that pale skin and those smooth lips, to feel those calloused hands slide over you, to know that all of his attention is focused on this moment and you and the two of you together, to experience all of that and still be able to deny Neji absolutely anything he asks for. It isn't possible. Any man who claims otherwise is a liar. Or has spent more than five minutes talking to the guy.

Because, sure, he's pretty as a porcelain doll but when you're talking about attitudes Neji's isn't exactly the easiest to accord with. He's overconfident and distant, insensitive to the point of rudeness but so calm and unaffected he probably doesn't even notice, or if he does notice then he doesn't care and Shikamaru's not really sure which one's worse. He's haughty and demanding and obsessive and so damn stubborn that it's no wonder Naruto had to knock him out to show him the error of his ways; that's the only way to get through to him. Yeah, definitely better to take the shell and leave the insides for someone else to bother with. Of course, he mentally scoffs, saying that is one thing…

Shikamaru twitches slightly at Neji's tongue probing at his lips, bringing him back to the physical realm. His mouth opens readily for the incessant muscle, although he maintains his own lethargic pace, something that he knows frustrates the Byakugan-user. The Hyuuga (predictably) responds by clutching at him even tighter, stretching the collar of his new shirt which Shikamaru's sure his mom is going to be just ecstatic about, and renews his assault with more force. Hostile, that was what he forgot before; Hyuuga Neji is hostile as shit. Shikamaru, having expected such a reaction, grips the back of the older man's head and tugs at the mass of Hyuuga hair that had become tangled and twisted around his hand; eliciting a growled and unintelligible reply from his companion as their contact is severed. Neji _hates_ having his hair pulled.

Shikamaru, one hand still knotted up in dark glossy locks, patently ignores the classic Hyuuga-glare that Neji's surely sending his way in favor of watching the last evidence of recent rainfall drip slowly off the sloped roof above them. He hears the continuous noise of Naruto and Kiba, muffled but still notably boisterous even through some three or four of the restaurant's concrete walls, along with sporadic input from Lee and Chouji and the higher-pitched but no less raucous voices of Sakura and Ino. When he had left the room, the conversation had been about previous missions and future plans and exactly how many pieces of cooked meat they could each fit into their mouths at one time. He idly wonders if their absence from the party had become conspicuous yet and how long it might take their friends to mobilize what would surely be a loud and entirely indiscrete search party.

Neji, by this time, is entirely irritated with Shikamaru's distracted state if the sharp nip and tug at his bottom lip was anything to go by. Rather than rise to the bait, Shikamaru lets his tongue flick out passively to scout out the damaged area before tracing Neji's lips, a casual apology and silent request to return to the previous languid pace of tongue-sliding. Neji's ruffled feathers are not so easily smoothed. Right, Neji's damn proud too.

Shikamaru gives a heavy sigh to mourn the loss of mouth to mouth contact. The Nara turns his head passively away and raises his free hand to bring the smoldering cigarette, the reason he ventured into the chill of the evening in the first place, to his lips. Inhale, exhale. He watches the smoke drift up and away. Neji watches the cigarette come back to his mouth.

"That'll kill you." The Hyuuga points out

"Lots of things could kill me"

"Yes, but-"

"Don't." Shikamaru interrupts with finality, "Listen, you're the one who…You don't want this," he gestures between them, "to be more than a physical thing and that's fine. I mean, " Shikamaru glances away, shrugging, "it's whatever. It is what it is." He raises the cigarette again, letting it dangle from his lips pointedly, and throws Neji a lazy stare. "But then don't go around commenting on my life choices."

Neji snorts, or does whatever the equivalent of snorting was in proper Hyuuga mannerisms. But his voice is a little more subdued than usual when he responds, "Is that supposed to be some sort of ultimatum?"

"No. I'm not threatening you, but I am telling you."

"I didn't realize we were still on mission, 'Captain'," the Hyuuga scorns tonelessly. Shikamaru only shrugs in reply, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out. Taking this to be the end of the conversation, Neji turns and would have left if a hand hadn't reached out and grabbed his arm, jerking him around to face the shadow-nin again.

Shikamaru swiftly coils his other hand around Neji's head and wrenches it back roughly. When the Hyuuga opens his mouth to protest the harsh treatment, Shikamaru takes the opportunity to cover it with his own, releasing the lungful of smoke he had been storing. Neji's stifled protests are lost, swallowed by Shikamaru in the mockery of a kiss, but he gets his point across well enough with the fingernails digging into Nara flesh hard enough to leave imprints and Shikamaru has to press the Hyuuga firmly against the wall to avoid what would surely be painfully accurate kicks.

As suddenly as he had grabbed the other man, Shikamaru releases him. Sidestepping quickly to avoid the immediate punch that was likely on course to his face, Shikamaru darts back into the restaurant and the safety of numbers. Neji wouldn't dare disrespect his family's honor and whatnot by causing a public disturbance at a local eatery. He would wait until they were alone.

Which, after all, is how Shikamaru wanted this night to end anyway.

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><p>~If you are going to comment, please be as specific and nit-picky as you like, I'm not sensitive or very confident about my grammar so criticism can only help<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

In which a lot of time is spent not accomplishing anything, Neji barely makes an appearance, and I use the word "and" sixty-nine times.

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><p>"Hey, isn't that Shikamaru?"<p>

"Oi~! Shikamaru~!"

The man being beckoned by the earsplitting and, unfortunately, familiar voices looked left and right for an exit, any exit, before he succumbed to the knowledge that here, walking down the main road smack dab in the middle of afternoon rush hour, there was simply no plausible escape. He quickly hunched his shoulders to brace for impact and not a second later he was physically accosted from the right, legs nearly buckled under the weight of a recognizable orange blur in his peripheral vision.

"Yo! Shikamaru!" the blur greeted cheerfully from his perch, latched onto Shikamaru's shoulder. The owner of the second voice, not far behind, trotted up atop his own beast of burden.

"Naruto, Kiba," and, after an expectant yip, "Akamaru," the Nara resignedly acknowledged his assailants.

A swift elbow to the gut knocked the blond shinobi to the ground and allowed Shikamaru to return to an upright posture, albeit with his regular slouch. He reached a hand down to help Naruto up as Kiba circled to his other side, effectively sandwiching him between the two loudmouths.

"Where you headed?" Naruto asked, innocently enough.

Shikamaru shrugged, "Nowhere." Which couldn't be true because any moving body is always moving somewhere, but is still a normal and acceptable thing for him to say and thus wasn't really too much of a lie.

"To do what?"

"Not much." That was also not a lie so much as a relative statement. After all, maybe his plans really weren't much depending on what Naruto's ideas of "much" were.

"Reeeally?" the dog-nin dragged the word out, dripping with suspicion.

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed.

"Yes", he responded tonelessly, "really." A lie.

"Because it looks to me like you're definitely headed somewhere. In fact, if you ask me, you look like you might be going", and here he took an overly dramatic pause and shot a very meaningful and entirely unwanted look at Shikamaru, "to the Main Gates."

Shikamaru tsked. Naruto seethed.

"What!? I was with Tsunade-baachan an hour ago and she said she wasn't sending anymore missions out today!" Naruto complained

"I'm not on a mission", Shikamaru denied.

"Not officially. But I think Shikamaru's on a more _personal_ sort of mission today, Naruto." Kiba supplied (un)helpfully, spoken to the Uzumaki but directed at the Nara.

"_Kiba_," Shikamaru warned. He could see where this was going. The dog-nin had been the second of his friends to find out, or possibly the third depending on Akamaru.

Of course, he hadn't told either of them; damn Inuzuka nose. It hadn't taken more than a couple of weeks into his "not-a-thing" thing with Neji before he was cornered in some Konoha back alley and being crowed at by the combo. At least, he was pretty sure Akamaru had been crowing too. Regardless, it had apparently come to the Inuzuka's attention that Shikamaru had been spending quite a lot of his time around Neji these days and Kiba, with a knowing grin, was interested in learning, quote-unquote, _What the hell _[was] _going on there, huh?_.

Well, that had been easy enough to explain, Shikamaru and Neji had a few things in common after all; Neji liked to discuss mission strategies, theoretical and practical, and was usually good for a game or two of Shogi. They were both known for enjoying a quieter social atmosphere than their peers so it was only natural that they might gravitate towards one another, if for no other reason than because there were only so many places in Konoha that one could sit peacefully without being hassled by nagging mothers and overenthusiastic teammates and _flea-infested mongrels_. That last one had earned him nasty glares and bared fangs from both parties, but wasn't enough to send Kiba spiraling off on a ranting tirade as he had hoped.

_Alright fine_, the Inuzuka had bit out, his smirk becoming less jaunty and more impish because if Shikamaru wasn't going to play nice why should he?, _but that doesn't explain what's got you two walking around the village with your smells all mixed up like you just stepped outta the blender, does it Akamaru?_ To which the dog had replied in what Shikamaru assumed was the affirmative given Kiba's smug expression.

Shikamaru had answered the question with one of his own. What exactly was Kiba doing, going around town sniffing at his fellow ninja? He then had added, with obvious faux concern and intention to agitate, that if the Inuzuka felt he needed to confess something, Shikamaru would always be here for him.

_Shut up!, _came his growled reply, barely comprehensible through grinding teeth, _you_ know_ that sort of crap just happens!_

Okay, the Nara had reasoned at the time, but if it was alright for Kiba to have done something without intending to, such as waft the delicate fragrances of his comrades on his time off, then it wouldn't be so ridiculous to claim that the same could be said for he and Neji and this mixing of scents debacle. Shikamaru's olfactory knowledge wasn't nearly so adept as that of the Inuzuka clan, but might it be possible that simply spending a decent amount of time in the company of each other's homes had caused the fusion of their respective odors?

Kiba, refusing to be cowed by Shikamaru's twist of words, had simply leveled a glare at the shadow-nin. _And the fact that your pheromones shoot through the roof when you get within ten feet of him?_

Well, shit.

So Chouji knew, because of course _Chouji_ knew, and Kiba and Akamaru knew, and if the appraising and therefore creepy looks his old man had been giving him lately meant anything then he probably knew too. Meanwhile Neji had no idea that any of these people knew and likely would not appreciate their knowing which meant there would be much hell to pay for Shikamaru if the Hyuuga ever found out how much those that knew knew and certainly if anyone new knew. In summary, Shikamaru was damn well going to make sure that no hyperactive, loudest-mouth-in-the-village future Hokage was getting anywhere near this information. He loved Naruto like a brother, really he did, and he would give his life for the guy, hell he almost had in the past; just not his sex life.

"A personal mission…" Naruto trailed off and crossed his arms behind his head, which had tipped to the side in confusion.

"Kiba's just messing with you Naruto, I'm not going anywhere, I'm not leaving the village." The Nara insisted, forcing a casual tone. Because Naruto was stupid, but even he could figure a puzzle out if you shoved all the pieces in his face.

"So a personal mission, but you're not leaving the village", the blonde's brow furrowed in thought.

Crap.

"No," Shikamaru corrected, "I mean 'I'm not going anywhere' as in there is no mission."

"If there's no mission, then why ever would you be walking to the gates on this lovely _Tuesday_ afternoon when you would otherwise have the day off, Shikamaru?" The paradox of such a pleasantly toned question, no matter how artificial, leaving the fanged and cruelly smirking mouth of the Inuzuka was not lost on Shikamaru. The same could not be said for Naruto, who ignored the near palpable goading in favor of the implications.

"Tuesday….Tuesday…Tuesday…." Naruto repeated like a mantra as he ground his knuckles into his temples.

_Crap._

"Kiba", the name was released as an aggravated groan, "why are you doing this?"

"Because I think it's funny to see you get all riled up. And because you said Akamaru had fleas"

"I said both of you had fleas." Shikamaru reminded, spitefully, to wipe that smile off of Kiba's face before turning to address the orange-clad ninja again.

"There's nothing special about Tuesday, there's no mission, I'm not going anywhere, Naruto." Shikamaru insisted, unsuccessfully trying to break the other shinobi out of his meditation. He rolled his eyes and switched tactics, "Hey, don't you have training with Kakashi-sensei?"

"Kakashi-sensei's trying to stay out of sight; he's avoiding Bushy-brow-sensei and his team 'cause they come back from their mission today." Naruto informed him offhandedly.

Suddenly the Uzumaki's eyes opened wide in realization.

"Ohhh!" he exclaimed before he announced to the world (or at least the dwindling masses nearby), finger pointed squarely between Shikamaru's eyes; "No wonder you're all stressed out, man! Neji's gone so you haven't done it in like two weeks!"

Shikamaru froze, mortified.

Kiba froze, ecstatic.

The Nara was the first to recover. He scoffed and turned his head away sharply, which did nothing to relieve the red heat crawling across his cheeks.

"Hell, Naruto", he tried weakly, "if you're going to go around talking nonsense like that at least leave me out of it."

Kiba skipped right past the pleasantries of denial and straight into accusation.

"Hey! How long have you known, idiot?"

"There's nothing to know." Shikamaru tried again, but was overruled.

"I didn't exactly save the date, dogface", Naruto retorted, "but I betcha I've known longer than _you _have."

"Oh yeah-"

"Shut up." Shikamaru hissed, before the immaturity could continue. Enough curious heads had already been turned in their direction, so Shikamaru grabbed them both harshly by the elbows to drag them along the street and away from the crowds with Akamaru following behind. Regrettably, this also brought the men's' attention front and center when he let them go after a reasonable distance.

"Well, honestly, Shikamaru", Naruto whined, "how long did you think I wouldn't notice you two sneaking off together? I did train with the Ero-sannin you know…"

If Shikamaru hadn't known any better he would have thought that, underneath all the griping, Naruto might be a little hurt by his withholding information. Except he did know better, which is how he was sure Naruto was genuinely hurt by his withholding information. Damn.

"Listen, you guys", he started and rubbed the back of his skull, "it isn't like I intended not to tell you from the start or anything. It just, sort of…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"Well, yeah", Kiba muttered, "that type of thing would totally be Neji's idea, wouldn't it?"

"Hey, back off, Kiba." Naruto admonished bitingly and turned angry blue eyes to the dog-nin's tattooed face. This, naturally, only served to put Kiba on the defensive.

"Don't yell at me, it's just the truth isn't it?" he barked. "Neji's an uptight, arrogant prick and you can't deny it. We've known each other since we were six, Shikamaru, and if you think I can't tell how depressed you've been lately, you're crazy! And it's _his_ fault."

"It's not his fault." Shikamaru snapped. "It's _my_ fault." And that was met with silence and eyes that bore into him expecting answers.

Shikamaru sighed and turned, paced away, and turned back. He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. He took a breath, and explained.

"It's not…I probably should have told you guys about it but I didn't so I guess I'm telling you now. There isn't a 'Me and Neji'. It's not like that. There's 'Me' and then there's 'Neji'. We _do stuff_ together, but we're not _together_-"

"But you want to be, don't you?"

Shikamaru froze mid-ramble. Because there were times that he believed Naruto was a giant goofball who could never become Hokage in a million years and then there times when he was forcibly reminded exactly how untrue that was. He knew that if he looked up now, it wouldn't be into the playful and friendly eyes of his long-time friend but into the steady stare of his future leader. Shikamaru averted his gaze.

"Don't be stupid, Naruto. You're making me sound like a goddamn woman", he groused, bringing them back into familiar territory. "I don't _want_ anything."

He didn't see the smirk Kiba sent him, who had also seamlessly morphed back into mischief-mode, but definitely heard it in his voice, right before he herded Naruto off.

"Well I can probably think of at least one thing you want, Mr. Two-Week-Dry-Spell, and he's headed your way."

The teasing didn't quite hit its mark; Shikamaru still wasn't really in the mood for it. He never liked upsetting his friends and he detested disappointing them and he felt he had done both with Naruto and Kiba. If this was what it felt like telling them, it would be pure hell revealing the lie to Ino. But when he did turn to lock gazes with the pale white orbs staring him down and felt the shock skitter across his nerves and a surprisingly heavy pang to a certain blood-pumping organ in his thoracic cavity that he'd rather not address right now, he realized he wasn't all that regretful. And that hurt a little bit too.


	3. Chapter 3

Smoking was stupid. Neji knew that. It was an idiotic, dangerous, unhealthy habit. A risk in a life that had quite enough already. He'd treated Shikamaru to countless lectures on the dangers of smoking, especially for those in their field of work, and he knew Chouji and Ino did the same. _Asuma smoked for years, and he was the healthiest shinobi this side of Maito Gai_, Shikamaru would argue back_. _Even if one discounts the significant health hazards, it's still just another liability in the field. Something that could interfere with mission procedure, for example, what if he ran out of cigarettes in the middle of an assignment? _I don't smoke on mission_ the Nara would claim. It can be exploited by enemy shinobi, should Shikamaru ever be apprehended. _I'm not an idiot, it's not like I'm addicted_ he would dismiss. But he didn't need to suffer from nicotine addiction to get lung cancer, which brought the argument back to the Nara's physical welfare. _Watch out, Hyuga, or I might start thinking you give a damn._

That always shut Neji up. Not that it was ever delivered with any particular bite; it would be stated plainly and honestly in a lazy drawl, likely accompanied by a shrug or a sigh or an eye roll or any other type of action that could effectively demonstrate Nara's total indifference. But he couldn't respond to a comment like that. To do so would break the fragile _something_ that was keeping whatever _this _was together.

Of course, he _cared_ for Shikamaru, first as a teammate, then a friend, and now as this, the indeterminate social role he was currently playing in Neji's life. But it wasn't a "caring" he knew how to define. It was entirely different.

He cared for Tenten and Lee, Naruto and the others in the rookie nine. He knew he could depend on them and liked to think that they reciprocated the thought. To them, he could be a reliable friend and confidant. He was strict and serious, concerning them and always with himself, but also kind and humble and fonder of their group than he would ever let them know. They knew his faults, were quick to point them out whenever they got the chance, but that didn't frustrate him as it once had. There was trust in their knowing, a trust not to take advantage, that he knew they would never cross and he sometimes found himself eager to divulge more secrets, to give more and get more and bind them closer and closer to him.

He cared for Gai-sensei, had respected him ever since the older man had beaten the absolute crap out of him on his first day of genin training. He had been devastated, filled with humiliation and disbelief that a guy who dressed up like a clown could dropkick him clear across the training ground without the Byakugan even sensing his approach. But he had never been insolent towards the man again. At least not to his face. Gai understood him in ways no one else had ever taken the time to. He knew about his family's legacy, and Neji's place as a branch member, knew about his anger but had never tried to talk him out of it. Whether he should or shouldn't have was up for debate, but he had never once criticized Neji's feelings or fed him any lines about how honored he should be because his father had been sacrificed for the good of the clan. For that, he had Neji's begrudging admiration, even if his twelve year old self had been too prideful to admit it out loud. For Gai-sensei, he was a capable jonin, the sole member of their group to reach such a position. Lee had always been Gai's favorite pupil, and probably always would be, but Neji was still one of his "precious students", and he doubted that would change anytime soon either.

Neji cared for Hinata, Hanabi, his uncle, and a selection of other members in the clan. This caring was new, slow to grow, and so delicate. He had become quite close with Hinata, and Hanabi to a lesser extent, and fiercely protective of both. He could still see the brittleness of this bond through interactions with his uncle; even now that he knew the truth behind his father's decision. Outside of training, neither really knew where the boundaries were, or when they had been overstepped until they were already broken through. They tread warily around each other, like walking on ice each new step had to be tested thoroughly before it could be counted on to hold steady. It was uncomfortable and sometimes unpleasant, but Neji wasn't displeased by it because this was the sort of caring he could feel strengthening with each passing day. Here, he was the Hyuga prodigy, despite personally feeling that he had somewhat disproved that notion in the very first round of the Chunin Exams. He was a treasure, a callback to the power and fierceness of Konoha's top close-combat fighting techniques. And he was something else too. Now and again, when he caught Hiashi or Hinata giving him odd looks, he got the bizarre feeling that those eyes would look at him that tenderly even if he couldn't perform juken to save his life. He was a son, a nephew, a brother.

But when he thought about Shikamaru, it was strange and wholly unique. Like he had been given pieces from all different puzzles and was somehow supposed to combine them into a complete picture.

Shikamaru clearly should be categorized alongside Naruto and the others; a friend and teammate. He trusted the other man explicitly both on and off the battlefield and depended on him just as much as he did the rest, probably more so given the Nara's position as de facto commander. Shikamaru probably had more opportunity than anyone to betray his confidence, yet Neji was inexplicably certain that would never happen. But, then again, the Nara was likely too lazy to delve into gossip and storytelling no matter whom the subject was or how much he knew about them.

He respected the Nara, body and mind, though the mind part sort of went without saying at this point. Shikamaru was a genius, plain and simple. His strategic mind outclassed people twice his age and with three times the experience and Neji's pride in him skyrocketed whenever the lazy nin proved as much. Like Neji, and in spite of himself, Shikamaru trained heavily, mostly at the behest of his father, to become proficient in his clan's techniques. While Neji was positive he could best the Nara in combat, he was no slouch either after all, he had no doubt that it would be a difficult win. Yet, for all his wisdom, Neji never considered seeking advice from the younger man and couldn't imagine ever being able to consult him with the ease in which he consulted Gai-sensei. The thought of the Nara looking at him as if Neji were just another ignoramus who needed things spelled out for him was gratuitously agitating.

And sometimes, when he caught Shikamaru staring late at night, or early in the morning, mid-afternoon, public areas, private bedrooms, from across the room or inches away, the look in his eyes was…

Neji's own eyes shot open. He quickly and, if he were being honest, rather ungracefully stood from his position at the base of a tall tree near the Third Training Ground. He scanned the area, making sure no one had seen his flustered flailing about. He really shouldn't have been meditating here, the third being such a popular training ground among the Konoha shinobi, but to actually find it abandoned, even at this hour before most of the village had stirred from slumber, was such a rare experience that he felt it had to be taken advantage of. But for his thoughts to trail into such a subject again, he sighed, it really was telling.

He supposed some part of him was constantly seeking a definition, the ability to pigeonhole Shikamaru's relation to him, label and classify it. But, he reminded himself not for the first time, that naturally there was no group that the idea of Shikamaru fell cleanly into, because he had no other "Shikamaru"s to speak of. No one else currently occupied that niche of friend, teammate, guide, rival, and, he scowled looking around shiftily at the emptiness, well, the _rest_. So it would only make sense for Shikamaru to become a class of his own, and if that unnerved and distressed Neji, then that was part of his development and would only be for the best in the end.

And if he thought, for even a split second, that this 'whatever' between them was becoming just as distracting and intrusive and risky and downright _addictive _as the Nara's own bad habit, well, that was nothing a nice fierce sparring session wouldn't push to the very back of his mind.

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><p>a bit from Neji's POV; how does it look to you? Without reviews, I'll just assume I am the personification of perfection and may grow quite a large head indeed hahaha<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Shikamaru feels a sudden pain at the back of his scalp as his ponytail is tugged sharply. When he turns to confront the offender, he catches the quirk of lips and the pointed stare of pure white eyes right before they disappear out the entranceway. Invitation received. He shuffles to his feet and stretches, ignoring the snickers and whipping sound effects that are chorused at him, and slouches his way to the door.

Outside, he pauses to light a smoke. Looking up to exhale, he catches sight of Neji, tall and arrogant, perched exactly where he knew he'd be; up on a rooftop straight across but quite a distance away from the bar. No doubt some modest, low-rent inn, the kind that probably gave out evening rooms just as often as overnight ones. Quick and casual. Shikamaru doesn't consider it and turns left instead.

He trudges along, as unhurried as ever, as if he really did have no prospective plans for the night aside from collapsing into the next piece of furniture he saw. There was no rushing wind or thundering rain tonight, typical warm-but-not-uncomfortably-so Konoha spring, so he has to pretend not to hear the soft tap of sandals against rooftops. If you weren't going to follow the rules, what was the point in playing the game?

He does hear the whistle though, sharp, a second before the thin, silver senbon cuts in front of him to land not an inch from his toes. He wiggles them in acknowledgement and sidesteps to press himself flat against the wall of the nearest building. After a minute he hears something else; voices. Loud and familiar. He peeks out to smile fondly at the distinctively rotund build of his best friend, always recognizable even in near pitch blackness, playfully roughhousing with a smaller but no less identifiable spikey haired loudmouth. They are accompanied by two obviously feminine figures, intermittently scolding and giggling.

On a normal night, Shikamaru might have joined them.

Not that the current happenings and the impending happenings of this night could be considered inconsistencies in his life. Statistically speaking, his days probably ended with white eyes more often than they didn't. But it was still unusual. Every time, it was unusual. Because how could someone get used to this? One seeks out and the other gets seeked out. Maybe next time the other seeks out and the one is seeked. That's not reliable. Maybe he'll die tomorrow and Neji won't seek anyone ever again. Maybe he'll live tomorrow and Neji will seek someone else anyway. Maybe one day there won't be any more seeking out. Maybe one day they'll both seek each other out. He considers asking, but instead he waits for his friends to pass and creeps on through.

The sound of footsteps has stopped and Shikamaru looks up, even though he wasn't supposed to be hearing it anyway. Neji's stance is less uniform now, one hand resting lightly on a cocked hip. He's a silhouette against the moon; Shikamaru can't see his face but is still sure it's smirking at him in playful superiority. It's a bathhouse. Not cheap, but not overly pricey either. Actually, Shikamaru thinks they may have stayed here before. He's on the back road, so there's no sign to read, but, this close up, he can make out the pattern of wafting smoke, hand-painted by the original owner he recalls, decorating the outer walls. He scratches a finger along the design and remembers the Hyuga, eyes lidded and face flushed amid the steam. Remembers pulling him in, pressing him down. Lounging around afterwards, shogi games, failing to improve Neji's card playing abilities despite his insistence that Shikamaru teach him.

Neji was abnormally insistent that whole night, if Shikamaru's memory serves him correctly. Sat close in the bath, even though it was so late that they were the only ones there. Clung tightly later, in the bedroom, arms coiled around Shikamaru's neck and shoulders. His blunted nails had dug in, leaving scratches Shikamaru had had to hide for a week or evoke the teasing wrath of his comrades. He can live it again now, if he concentrates a bit. Neji, impatient for him where he would usually try to remain cold and unaffected for as long as possible. Not that Shikamaru had given a much better showing himself. He remembers shuddering with need, becoming rushed and clumsy and unfocused, like it was their first time. He couldn't remember why.

More pitter-patter. Shikamaru tips his head to avoid the pebbles tumbling down the slanted roof towards him. He squints up at Neji, who has escalated to womanly foot-tapping along with the previously evidenced rock-throwing. The Nara huffs amusedly at the rare showing of impatience in the Hyuga, reminded again of that night and wondering if Neji remembers too. Or if he's brought them here because he doesn't. Or if he's trying to. Shikamaru considers going in, booking a room, staying the night, but instead puts out his cigarette and walks some more.

He tries to pretend not to hear the aggravated tsk floating after him. He knows the night is slinking on, slowly, and Neji is getting more irritated than impish. He doesn't know what happens if he fails to get a place before the allotted time runs out. He doesn't even know how much time he has left. He reaches a staircase and climbs up.

He's using the fire escape, which is supposed to be off limits unless in case of an emergency, but that's never really mattered. What kind of self-respecting ninja needs a fire escape? The important thing is it's outside the building, so he can climb the stairs one by one and watch a white-clad form keep pace, walking up the walls of a structure located almost directly across the street. Shikamaru reaches the top floor of his building and waits for Neji to do the same. The Hyuga has a bit longer to go.

Neji settles on the balcony of the penthouse suite in a high-class hotel. His position would have been meditative, formal kneel and straight back, if not for the tense crossed arms and pure stubborn aggression washing over him in waves. Final offer.

Shikamaru considers it. It would cost him more than a month's pay for a single night. It would be worth it, of course, it was always worth it. They'd have fun, enjoy each other's bodies and also each other's company, maybe they'd enjoy the bath or the pool, maybe they'd order some super expensive food that Neji would lecture him about but he'd still have no taste for. But even the worst nights with Neji, full of lashing words and harsh force, were worth it compared to not doing it at all. They made sure it was worth it, because if it wasn't worth it than what the hell were they doing anyway? Come to think of it, what the hell _were_ they doing anyway?

So Shikamaru considers it, but instead he turns around and puts his key into his lock attached to his door guarding the entrance to his apartment. He takes off his shoes in his doorway, shrugs off his vest and enters his kitchen to see what he's got in his refrigerator.

He doesn't pretend not to hear the hesitant rapping at his back door, but he still waits until it isn't so hesitant anymore before he opens it.

He thinks maybe this time he'll act rushed and clumsy and unfocused and see if Neji gets impatient for him.


End file.
